A Daughter of the Union

  CHAPTER XIII

  UNDER EVERY FLOWER THERE LURKS A SERPENT

  "Yes; Snowball," repeated Madame. "A quaint name, is it not? She is soblack that I fancy that was the reason it was given her. She bore it whenyour uncle bought her. She is very bright, and a master hand at waitingupon one."

  Jeanne made no further remark but eagerly scanned the face of the darkyas she entered. She was indeed very black, and her shining ivorieswere always visible in a smile. Good nature was written all over hercountenance, but Jeanne could see no resemblance to Tenny.

  "She may not be the one after all," she mused.

  "Snowball," said Madame. "Miss Jeanne will be your young lady now. Yourduty will be to attend to her and to look after her clothes while she ishere."

  "Yes'm;" Snowball dropped a curtsy. "Does yer want me ter do anything now,little missy?"

  "Yes; help her to dress for dinner," replied Madame Vance speaking forJeanne. "We dine at eight, my dear."

  Jeanne followed the black to the room which had been given her, andSnowball proceeded to brush her hair.

  "Snowball," said the girl suddenly, "was your mother named Tennessee? Anddid they call her Tenny for short?"

  "Bress yer soul, honey, yes," cried Snowball letting the brush fall inher astonishment. "How kum yer ter know dat?"

  "She was on the boat with me when I came from Memphis," replied Jeanne."She told me all about losing you and how much she thought of you, butshe thought that Colonel Peyton bought you."

  "Yes'm, he did. But de Kuhnel went to de wah an' he say he hab too manydarkies, so he sell off all but de ones he hab de longes', an' Massa Vancebought me. What my ole mammy say?"

  "She loves you very much, and she misses you greatly, Snowball. I wishI could buy you and set you free. Then you could go North to live withher."

  "Wish yer could. I'd laik dat. An' I'd laik de bes' in de wohld ter seemy ole mammy ergain. How'd she look, missy?"

  Jeanne told the girl all that she could recall about Tenny. How she lookedand what she had said. Snowball's eyes glistened as she talked.

  "Yer got a good heart, little missy," she said as Jeanne paused forbreath. "You is de bestest lill' lady dat I eber seed. Snowball'll lubter wait on yer."

  And Jeanne soon found that it was really a labor of love to the girl,and they grew to be fast friends despite the difference in color andcondition. In fact she soon found that she felt more at home with thecolored girl than she did with her aunt in spite of the caresses whichthe latter lavished upon her.

  The days passed into weeks, and the weeks into months until two had rolledby and Jeanne was still in New Orleans. She had grown pale and thin andworn. She had no illness but suffered the bad effects of the wastingclimate. In all the time she had been there no word had come to her fromher parents, and a great longing for home possessed her.

  "Why does not my father write for me?" she murmured one morning as she satlistlessly before the window. "What can have happened? Something is wrongI know, or he would have sent for me."

  "Why so triste, my love?" asked her aunt entering the room.

  "Cherie," and Jeanne returned the caress that Madame bestowed upon her."I am wishing for my mother and home. I wonder why I have not heard frommy father."

  "It is strange," admitted the lady. "And yet, child, when one considersthe state of the country and how the Yankees seize mails and telegrams,and exercise such a rigorous espionage over them one cannot wonder afterall. I have no doubt that he has written, but that his letters are beingdetained for some reason by 'Beast' Butler."

  Jeanne made no reply. She had ceased for some time saying anything whenher aunt launched forth in a tirade against the Yankees. She was asstaunch a patriot as ever, but, without words, it had been borne inupon her mind that her sentiments were unwelcome to her uncle and aunt,and that it would be better for her not to give utterance to them.

  "Where is Snowball?" asked Madame Vance presently. "I wish to take you fora drive, and you are not dressed. That darky gets more shiftless everyday. Where is she?"

  "Hyar I is, missus." Snowball started up from behind a huge brocaded chairso quickly that she overturned a low table upon which stood a ewer thathad contained orangeade. A crash followed, and the culprit stood lookingat the fragments of the pitcher with consternation written over her face.

  "Come here," and Madame's tone was so stern that Jeanne looked at herstartled. "Forty lashes you shall have for this."

  "Please'm, missus, lemme off dis time. Clar ter goodness I didn't go terdo it."

  "Please, please," said Jeanne tearfully. She had heard the sound ofwhippings once or twice, but her aunt had always taken her away from thesound immediately, and her soul sickened at the thought of them. "I couldnot bear to have Snowball whipped, Cherie."

  "She must be punished," said the lady harshly. "Such carelessness cannotbe tolerated for a moment."

  "But isn't there some other way?" cried Jeanne. "Do, do, dear Cherie, usesome other way of punishment."

  "Jeanne, I beg you to say no more. Am I not capable of administeringthe affairs of my own household? I want no Yankee notions down here.I understand what she needs."

  Jeanne did not dare to reply. She had never before seen her aunt angryalthough she knew that the blacks were very much afraid of her. Snowballwas taken down into the yard, and soon Jeanne heard the most fearfulscreams as if a human being was suffering the utmost that a mortal couldendure of agony.

  She could not bear the cries. She ran down the stairs and out into theyard where she beheld the girl stretched upon the ground on her face, herfeet tied to a stake, her hands held by a black man, her back uncoveredfrom her head to her heels. Her aunt was standing by directing a burlynegro in his task of applying the lash.

  The girl's back was covered with blood. Every stroke of the instrumentof torture tore up the flesh in long dark ridges. With a cry of horrorJeanne caught the man's arm as it was about to descend for another stroke.

  "Stop," she cried. "For the love of mercy, stop!"

  "Go into the house, girl," commanded Madame Vance in terrible tones. "Whoare you that you should interfere with my bidding? Have I not the rightto do with my own slave as I wish? I want none of your abolitionism here."

  "But she has been whipped enough," cried Jeanne. "Surely it is enough. Icannot bear it."

  She burst into tears. For a moment Madame's face was convulsed with fury,and then a wonderful change came over it. She was once again the smiling,affectionate lady that had greeted the girl on her arrival.

  "There!" she said going to Jeanne and putting her arms about her. "Youshall have your way. You see that 'Cherie' can refuse you nothing. Put upyour strap, Jeff. I will let the girl off this time because Miss Jeannewishes it. But see that you are more careful next time, Snowball. Youmight not get off so easily."

  "Yes, missus," responded the sobbing creature as she was helped upon herfeet.

  "Now come, Jeanne, and we will go for our drive. You have no idea howtroublesome these blacks are, my dear. One has to keep an iron hand uponthem to hold them in subjection. But of course you are not used to them."

  "No," said Jeanne shrinking a little from her caresses. "We don't haveslavery at the North. I never felt so thankful of it before. Poor things!Poor things!"

  Madame Vance's brow darkened, but she smoothed the girl's hair softly.

  "And aren't you going to forgive your poor 'Cherie'? Are you going toturn against her because of a little whipping? You are unjust, Jeanne.We who have the blacks to deal with know more of this matter than youdo. Besides did I not give it up when you asked me?"

  "Forgive me," answered Jeanne trying to feel the same toward the beautifulwoman as she had before, but too full of the recent horror to do so. "I amnot used to such things, Cherie, and it will take some time for me to getover them."

  "We will say no more about it, you quaint one, but go for our drive."

  And soon they were out in the bright sunshine, the lady pointing outplaces of interest as she had
often done before, but it seemed to thegirl that she was trying to impress upon her mind the location of someof the streets particularly.

  "Now," said Madame after they had returned to the villa and were partakingof refreshments, "now you shall show me again the lunch basket withits curious hiding-place. How clever your father must be, child! I long toknow him."

  "I wish we could go to him," sighed Jeanne as she obediently brought thebasket and showed once more the place where the quinine had been concealed.

  "Perhaps we may soon, who knows?" said the lady gaily, examining thebasket closely notwithstanding her liveliness. "I would tell you asecret--but no; not now."

  "What, Cherie?" cried the girl with eagerness. "Is it about my father?"

  "Now, now, curious one!" madame shook her finger playfully at her. "Wellthen, I will tell. I can refuse you nothing, petite. You wind yourselfabout my heart so. Listen, and you shall hear the grand news. Your uncleand I wonder too why your father does not write. We know that you havea great desire for your home, and so we are going to take you there."

  "Home! Oh, Cherie!" Jeanne sprang to the lady and embraced herrapturously, "Home! I am so glad! so glad!"

  "Is it not grand, little one? And we go together to see your cleverfather and your beautiful mother. But your uncle has much to do first.I will tell you more. He has deeded you all his property. His houses,his carriages, his slaves, his horses, his money, in fact everythingwhich he possesses. Is he not kind?"

  "To me?" and Jeanne looked at her in bewilderment. "But why, Cherie?"

  "Because he thinks so much of you, and then too you are for the Union, andthe 'Beast' will not take them from you as he would from us."

  "But why should General Butler wish to take your property from you?" askedthe girl, who knew nothing of the Confiscation Act. In fact knowledge ofany kind had been carefully kept from her except such as reflected uponthe North.

  "I do not know, child. Who does?" shrugging her shoulders. "The vagariesof the 'Beast' are not to be kept up with. But it does not matter. Youwill have them and we will be pleased. We have no children, you know."

  "I know," said Jeanne kissing her. She could not understand the matter.Her uncle had never shown any particular fondness for her, and in factseemed to shun her. "You are very kind to me, Cherie."

  "So kind that you would do one little thing for 'Cherie'?" asked the lady,flashing a quick glance at her.

  "Certainly, I would," replied the girl unwarily.

  "Then listen, petite, and you shall hear how you can do a great servicefor your uncle and me. Draw closer, my pet. None must hear what I wouldtell you."

  Jeanne came close to her side and waited to hear what her aunt had to say.